


Narcissus

by tsurai



Series: Modern Mythos [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Stilinski Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurai/pseuds/tsurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For the prompt: voiles as eerily close twins?</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ten minutes later Narcyz Johnathan Stilinski joins his brother in her arms to breastfeed, a shade pinker than his red-faced twin, but otherwise completely identical. Claudia stares down at them, feeling like the world’s strangest April Fool’s joke is being played out before her.<br/>The ultrasounds only ever showed one baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Narcissus

Świętomierz Genim Stilinski is born on a rainy April 1st afternoon. The birth goes fairly smooth, Claudia thinks, as smooth as births _can_ go. John doesn’t leave her side for a moment of it, letting her clutch at his hand in stalwart support. Świętomierz slips free and the nurse whisks him to the side to clean up. Claudia relaxes at the side of the squirming baby – all that’s left is the afterbirth, but-

“You’re crowning again!” the doctor exclaims, her voice filled with shock.

Ten minutes later Narcyz Johnathan Stilinski joins his brother in her arms to breastfeed, a shade pinker than his red-faced twin, but otherwise completely identical. Claudia stares down at them, feeling like the world’s strangest April Fool’s joke is being played out before her.

The ultrasounds only ever showed one baby.

* * *

Narcyz’s first word is, “No.” Her sons delight in babbling at each other at all hours, to the point where Claudia has given up trying to separate them for any length of time. If one is taken out of hearing range the other promptly starts to cry – especially Narcyz, who howls as if in pain if Świętomierz leaves his sight for more than a minute.

“Here comes the choo-choo,” Claudia coaxes, trying to get Narcyz to accept the spoonful of puréed carrots, “open the tunnel!”

Narcyz turns his face away again, resulting in a streak of orange across his fat baby cheek. “No!”

Claudia blinks, sitting back in her stool.

“No!” Świętomierz pipes up from the highchair next to him, bouncing in his seat with more purée in his hair than stomach. “No no no no no-” That sets off Narcyz, and soon the twins are vehemently denying any and all orange food.

“So much for Mama being your first word, huh?” Claudia sighs, and gets up to grab the strawberry baby food.

“No” is the only thing Narcyz will say for three straight weeks, even when Świętomierz branches out. Claudia is deemed “Mama,” John is proclaimed “Dada,” and Narcyz is, of course, “No.”

* * *

Stiles and No stand on either side of the hospital bed, each clasped onto a hand that burns with fever. Stiles swallows, unable to turn his gaze away from Mom, who lies pale and wasted but with her eyes thankfully closed. “Do you think Dad’s going to make it?” he asks. At the corner of his vision he sees No look up, face far too solemn for a ten-year-old.

“Not in time,” his twin answers, little inflection in his tone. They’re both too wrung out for it, but tears still try to force their way out of Stiles’ eyes. He closes them and pretends he didn’t see the dark veins spreading up No’s hand.

* * *

The twins are a force of nature, and every child their age learned quickly to avoid them. This carried over into junior high, after only a few incidents. _Really_ , Stiles thinks, _after the third “accident” involving Jackson’s group, you’d think they’d get the picture_.

Will Parson trips Stiles on the way to English class, but No catches him, pulling Stiles against his chest as he glares at the laughing bully’s back.

“You alright?” No murmurs against his neck, one hand caught in Stiles’ flannel. Stiles pats his arm, leaning against the other boy for a moment before he straightens.

“I will be,” he replies, thrilling a little when No rewards him with a sharp smirk.

Three hours later Will Parson trips down a flight of stairs in front of five other people. He breaks his right arm and collar bone in three places, acquiring a severe concussion that puts him out of JV lacrosse for the entire season.

Jackson will later swear that the Stilinski twins stood at the end of hallway, watching and holding hands “like something out of the fucking Shining.”

People leave them alone again after that.

* * *

“I want him,” Stiles says, too close to No’s ear, and points before Narcyz can ask. The kid is cute, with soft brown hair grown out into a “skater” do and big puppy eyes.

No wrinkles his nose, glancing over the other boy with the same distain he holds for everyone but Stiles and Dad. “What for?”

Stiles laughs, too used to No’s attitude to be put off. “A friend,” he says. Anxiety shoots through him, then, and he bites his lip. “We can share, though.”

No leans back against the bench, leather jacket pulling tight over his shoulders as he puts his elbows on the back, one behind Stiles. Fingers traces the knobs of his spine through his shirt while No thinks. If No had a cigarette, he’d probably flick it dismissively. “No, you can have him,” he says finally, voice heavy as the hand on Stiles’ back slides up into his hair. “Just don’t forget who you belong to.” His grip isn’t harsh, but it’s still enough for Stiles to turn and pinch his ribs until No lets go.

“You either,” he retorts, getting up to meet Scott for the first time.

* * *

But for the Narcyz’s slightly paler skin, they are identical down to every mole on their bodies. No’s eyes light up with delight that mirrors his when Stiles bursts into their bedroom, back from eavesdropping on Dad’s call and says: “Let’s go find a body!”

* * *

“Fucking _wolves_ ,” No snarls with a flash of silver in his teeth. Stiles throws the second Molotov.

* * *

Stiles stares down at the Sherriff’s star, beat roughly back into shape with the hammer he found in the garage. No's hands skim down his arms and close Stiles’ fingers over the badge.

“We both know it won’t work for me,” No whispers, even as Deaton dumps the last of the ice and mistletoe into the baths.

His throat closes, the closest to acknowledgment either of them has ever gotten, and he nods. “Yeah.” Stiles leans into his brother, dropping his forehead to his shoulder. “You’ll be my anchor though?” It shouldn’t be a question, it _shouldn’t_.

Narcyz scoffs. “Of course.”

Deaton directs them into the baths, never once looking at the twins, and on his count, all three sacrifices sink below the icy water. The last thing Stiles sees before black overtakes him is his twin grinning as he drowns.

* * *

Stiles groans into the pillow, panting quietly in an effort not to let Dad overhear. He can _feel_ No’s grin against his neck, sharp claws pricking his hip as No thrusts into him again. “Feeling good, baby brother?”

“Don’t you – ah – ‘baby brother’ me,” Stiles rasps, trying to catch his breath even as No forces it back out of him. “I was born – fuck – I was born first!”

 “That doesn’t mean much when I’m a thousand years old,” No purrs, then changes his angle just a little bit and drives back in at exactly the right spot that has Stiles seeing stars. He hits it perfectly once, twice, then three more times in quick succession until Stiles gasps and falls apart, spilling come all over No’s ready hand. He wants to collapse, drop his hips to the bed the way his chest is already flush, but No hold him there, strokes rougher and deeper as his brother finally just _takes_.

“Narcyz,” Stiles moans, because No is still milking him for every drop, drawing him over the edge of pleasure into pain so delicious that he nearly comes again just from that. That, and No continually hitting his prostate over and over. “Fuck, please!”

“Świętomierz,” No whines, high and animal as his hips stutter. A moment later Stiles feels a burst of _hot-wet_ in his ass, the same second any pain he was feeling fades away. No slips out with a long groan, mouthing at Stiles’ neck as he goes before dropping to the side. Stiles finally lets his hips fall to the bed, turning his head to face his twin. No lies propped on one elbow, holding the other hand to his mouth as he licks Stiles’ come from his fingers. His cock gives a valiant twitch at the sight, but he ignores it as best he can.

“You’re going to hold the age thing over me forever, aren’t you?” he grumbles.

The nogitsune smirks at him, leaning down for a long kiss. “Yes,” he murmurs, “I do believe I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Voiles week. Come join me on my [tumblr](http://tsuraiwrites.tumblr.com/).


End file.
